Generally, I like to be open minded about music: obviously I have expectations but I try to at least give new music a few good listens before I judge them. However, when it comes to The Ramones, I am not so lenient.
So many people have told me that the Ramones started the American punk scene and that they really influenced the way American music developed. If either of those statements is true, then I have severe concerns about the where music was when The Ramones ‘influenced it’ and where it is now.
The bands first album, the one bearing the bands name, has 14 songs, of which none are longer than about two minutes and thirty seconds. Dee Dee might have been able to write lyrics for that many songs, but whoever was in charge of writing the rest of the music failed epically. Nearly all the songs are composed of three chord riffs that repeat themselves over and over and over at nearly the same tempo as the song before.
I suppose someone could argue that Rock and Punk are similar in composition, which is true, but you’d be hard pressed to find a rock album with 14 songs that are equally simplistic.
Blitzkrieg Bop is definitely my favorite on the album, although I do enjoy the guitar part in 53rd and 3rd, a song which, if I’m not mistaken, is about hookers and not just any kind of hookers: male hookers. Hoooorayyyyy.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Tommy
What constitutes ‘progressive’ rock has always been a mystery to me. But one album to me has always stood out as being among the forerunners in progressive music: Tommy.
Released in 1969, Tommy represented one of, if not, the first albums to be called a ‘rock opera’.
The album tells the story of Tommy Walker, a deaf, dumb, and blind boy. Tommy’s father is a pilot in WWI who is reported dead while Mrs. Walker delivers her boy. Shortly after the war’s end, Mr. Walker returns home to find his wife with another lover. When Mr. Walker confronts the two, he kills the lover, a crime which Tommy witnesses. His parents tell him to forget what he saw and heard, and tell him never to speak of it to anyone. It is this that results in his becoming blind, deaf, and dumb.
Although I’m usually primarily concerned with musicianship, I found that I enjoyed the lyrics a great deal. For this particular album, the lyrics really play a huge part in the creation of the songs themselves (besides, Daltrey can belt it).
While I like many of the songs, I felt the album got a bit bogged down with so many songs. I appreciate that they were telling a story and wanted to make it interesting, but songs like ‘Cousin Kevin’ and ‘Fiddle About’ seemed like they were unnecessary to me.
Likely, the best known song on the album is Pinball Wizard. But, me being me, I find one of the coolest yet simplest songs on the album to be my favorite. ‘Sparks’, which sits at number five on the album, and yes, it is an instrumental. (I’ve included a video of them playing the song live at Leeds.
If you are a fan of the album then I also recommend you check out the movie. It’s like Flash Gordon in that it doesn’t matter how low budget a film is as long as it has a good sound track. Also similar to Flash Gordon, Tommy: The Movie is ridiculously trippy.
Released in 1969, Tommy represented one of, if not, the first albums to be called a ‘rock opera’.
The album tells the story of Tommy Walker, a deaf, dumb, and blind boy. Tommy’s father is a pilot in WWI who is reported dead while Mrs. Walker delivers her boy. Shortly after the war’s end, Mr. Walker returns home to find his wife with another lover. When Mr. Walker confronts the two, he kills the lover, a crime which Tommy witnesses. His parents tell him to forget what he saw and heard, and tell him never to speak of it to anyone. It is this that results in his becoming blind, deaf, and dumb.
Although I’m usually primarily concerned with musicianship, I found that I enjoyed the lyrics a great deal. For this particular album, the lyrics really play a huge part in the creation of the songs themselves (besides, Daltrey can belt it).
While I like many of the songs, I felt the album got a bit bogged down with so many songs. I appreciate that they were telling a story and wanted to make it interesting, but songs like ‘Cousin Kevin’ and ‘Fiddle About’ seemed like they were unnecessary to me.
Likely, the best known song on the album is Pinball Wizard. But, me being me, I find one of the coolest yet simplest songs on the album to be my favorite. ‘Sparks’, which sits at number five on the album, and yes, it is an instrumental. (I’ve included a video of them playing the song live at Leeds.
If you are a fan of the album then I also recommend you check out the movie. It’s like Flash Gordon in that it doesn’t matter how low budget a film is as long as it has a good sound track. Also similar to Flash Gordon, Tommy: The Movie is ridiculously trippy.
Inside In/ Inside Out
I have a friend that lives in England who reads my posts and she recommended that since I’ve covered so many of the old English standbys that I should do some more current English bands.
She gave me the name of a band, The Kooks, and I listened to their album, Inside In/ Inside Out, was the bands debut album released in January of 2006 and has since sold around 2,000,000 units around the world.
I liked that I could hear both the indie influences in their upbeat numbers but and strange lyrics. But it was really comforting for me, someone who appreciates a good guitar solo, to hear the occasion riff on the electric guitar. It made the album feel much more familiar to me and the music more appealing. That isn’t to say that the music is unappealing to begin with: in fact, The Kooks have succeeded in writing, particularly on this album, many good numbers.
Even though I listen to a number of old English bands, I sometimes have trouble hearing their English accents come out in their singing. I don’t know why, but The Kooks have a much more distinguishable singing style and they sound much less like an American band than some of their predecessors.
Among the electric guitars and fast chord progressions, there are some slower acoustic songs, the best of which, I think, is Seaside. These acoustic numbers balance the album well by lightening up what seems to be a strong, primarily electric tone.
To be honest, for the most part, I had absolutely no idea what the lyrics were. I don’t have a particular problem with this because I focus primarily on instrumentation. But for those of you who can’t listen to a song without singing along, I suggest you work on your English accent and look up the lyrics because you’ll be hard pressed to figure them out yourself.
Generally I think the Kooks appeal to an audience with a slightly more refined taste in music however I still recommend giving them a try, as listening to English music never hurt anyone.
She gave me the name of a band, The Kooks, and I listened to their album, Inside In/ Inside Out, was the bands debut album released in January of 2006 and has since sold around 2,000,000 units around the world.
I liked that I could hear both the indie influences in their upbeat numbers but and strange lyrics. But it was really comforting for me, someone who appreciates a good guitar solo, to hear the occasion riff on the electric guitar. It made the album feel much more familiar to me and the music more appealing. That isn’t to say that the music is unappealing to begin with: in fact, The Kooks have succeeded in writing, particularly on this album, many good numbers.
Even though I listen to a number of old English bands, I sometimes have trouble hearing their English accents come out in their singing. I don’t know why, but The Kooks have a much more distinguishable singing style and they sound much less like an American band than some of their predecessors.
Among the electric guitars and fast chord progressions, there are some slower acoustic songs, the best of which, I think, is Seaside. These acoustic numbers balance the album well by lightening up what seems to be a strong, primarily electric tone.
To be honest, for the most part, I had absolutely no idea what the lyrics were. I don’t have a particular problem with this because I focus primarily on instrumentation. But for those of you who can’t listen to a song without singing along, I suggest you work on your English accent and look up the lyrics because you’ll be hard pressed to figure them out yourself.
Generally I think the Kooks appeal to an audience with a slightly more refined taste in music however I still recommend giving them a try, as listening to English music never hurt anyone.
The Mix-Up
I recently came upon one of the best albums I’ve heard in a long time. My sister, who I believe listens to odd but nevertheless good music, was playing a song called ‘Electric Worm’ and I asked her who it was by. ‘The Beastie Boys, of course’ she told me.
Since then I have tried to get my hands on some of the Beastie Boys’ albums and I’ve discovered a sound that is not only unique but well put together. I say ‘not only’ because I’ve heard unique music before which, however, is less diverse and repetitive.
But the Beastie Boys are neither or those things. Their instrumental album The Mix-Up has become one of my favorites.
I imagine, since the album sold 44,000 units in its first week, that an entirely instrumental album still satisfies the Beastie Boys’ audience. I also like to imagine that more people than just those who were already Beasties fans bought the album because even without the lyrics, they managed to produce a very good album.
I’ve heard friends of mine say before that they need good lyrics to like a song. I can’t even express how strongly I disagree with that statement, especially since there are albums like The Mix-Up out there that combine superior musicianship with excellent songwriting.
A good argument can be made against some instrumental albums, and that is that some songs have a tendency to become repetitive so that the listener ends up hearing 10 different variations of one song, leaving them in a state of complete bewilderment. If the listener has to sit there and wonder “I think I’ve heard a song like this before, but I’m not sure where,” then I’d say the album is a failure.
However, The Mix-Up avoids repetition in any form. They utilize increasingly unique instruments to create their songs: I believe at one point what sounds like a coach’s whistle is used to maintain the rhythm.
Overall, the album is definitely worth the asking price. Even if you don’t think you can handle songs without lyrics, I urge you to pick up on The Mix-Up.
Since then I have tried to get my hands on some of the Beastie Boys’ albums and I’ve discovered a sound that is not only unique but well put together. I say ‘not only’ because I’ve heard unique music before which, however, is less diverse and repetitive.
But the Beastie Boys are neither or those things. Their instrumental album The Mix-Up has become one of my favorites.
I imagine, since the album sold 44,000 units in its first week, that an entirely instrumental album still satisfies the Beastie Boys’ audience. I also like to imagine that more people than just those who were already Beasties fans bought the album because even without the lyrics, they managed to produce a very good album.
I’ve heard friends of mine say before that they need good lyrics to like a song. I can’t even express how strongly I disagree with that statement, especially since there are albums like The Mix-Up out there that combine superior musicianship with excellent songwriting.
A good argument can be made against some instrumental albums, and that is that some songs have a tendency to become repetitive so that the listener ends up hearing 10 different variations of one song, leaving them in a state of complete bewilderment. If the listener has to sit there and wonder “I think I’ve heard a song like this before, but I’m not sure where,” then I’d say the album is a failure.
However, The Mix-Up avoids repetition in any form. They utilize increasingly unique instruments to create their songs: I believe at one point what sounds like a coach’s whistle is used to maintain the rhythm.
Overall, the album is definitely worth the asking price. Even if you don’t think you can handle songs without lyrics, I urge you to pick up on The Mix-Up.
The Darjeeling Limited Soundtrack
I know; it is odd that I’m reviewing a sound track, especially one that is made up primarily of traditional Indian music.
I can’t explain my obsession with the sitar, but I do know that my favorite Beatles songs including George Harrison strumming away madly on the sitar.
It’ll be tough for those who haven’t seen the movie to understand the significance of any of the songs, so if you haven’t, I recommend first that you go see the movie. It is one of my personal favorites, but I won’t promise that you’ll like it.
You will, however, like the soundtrack. It’s full of beautiful Indian music interlaced with the occasional Kinks song and one from the Rolling Stones.
The Kinks’ songs on the album are some that I haven’t been able to find anywhere else, and not for lack of trying. Strangers, Powerman, and This Time Tomorrow are three of my favorite Kinks songs.
The Stones’ song Play With Fire is also on the album and is one of the reasons I was so set on finding this album.
In the context of the film, the music doesn’t have a particular role in assisting in the telling of the story, but to me, when listened to without the film; the music tells its own story. By that I mean you can watch the movie and the music only adds to the environment of the story. On the other hand, the music on its own creates separate imagery. This alone makes the album worth while to me and is perhaps why I like it so much.
Apart from the three tunes by The Kinks and the one by the Stones, there are only a few others among the 22 songs with lyrics. Probably the strangest of these is Typewritter, Tip, Tip, Tip by Asha Bhosle & Kisore Kumar. Listening to it, I have no idea what would inspire someone to write a song like this. It is perhaps on of the weirdest songs I’ve ever heard.
For the most part though, there are very few lyrics and so once again you need to be prepared for a largely instrumental album.
I can’t explain my obsession with the sitar, but I do know that my favorite Beatles songs including George Harrison strumming away madly on the sitar.
It’ll be tough for those who haven’t seen the movie to understand the significance of any of the songs, so if you haven’t, I recommend first that you go see the movie. It is one of my personal favorites, but I won’t promise that you’ll like it.
You will, however, like the soundtrack. It’s full of beautiful Indian music interlaced with the occasional Kinks song and one from the Rolling Stones.
The Kinks’ songs on the album are some that I haven’t been able to find anywhere else, and not for lack of trying. Strangers, Powerman, and This Time Tomorrow are three of my favorite Kinks songs.
The Stones’ song Play With Fire is also on the album and is one of the reasons I was so set on finding this album.
In the context of the film, the music doesn’t have a particular role in assisting in the telling of the story, but to me, when listened to without the film; the music tells its own story. By that I mean you can watch the movie and the music only adds to the environment of the story. On the other hand, the music on its own creates separate imagery. This alone makes the album worth while to me and is perhaps why I like it so much.
Apart from the three tunes by The Kinks and the one by the Stones, there are only a few others among the 22 songs with lyrics. Probably the strangest of these is Typewritter, Tip, Tip, Tip by Asha Bhosle & Kisore Kumar. Listening to it, I have no idea what would inspire someone to write a song like this. It is perhaps on of the weirdest songs I’ve ever heard.
For the most part though, there are very few lyrics and so once again you need to be prepared for a largely instrumental album.
The B52's at the Waikoloa
It is not often that one finds themselves among a crowd of loud, drunken, aging hippies. And yet there I was, on a bus with 20 of them heading towards the Waikoloa Marriot on the Big Island in Hawaii where, in an hour, a massive gathering of middle-aged B 52’s fans would be converging to ring in the New Year.
I was amazed but not surprised that many on the bus were already inebriated. I watched as two women staggered towards the bus stop, drinks in hand, and saw them trip over each other as they both attempted to enter the bus, simultaneously. The tiny door was clearly not big enough for both of them and this was made clear when both became trapped and dropped their drinks on the laps of the couple in the front seat. I expected to see an angry husband leap up and begin shouting at the two drunks; instead, I saw the two begin shaking with laughter as they made room for the women.
We winded our way through the massive Waikoloa Resort complex, the entire bus joined in the butchering of Rock Lobster and Love Shack. We unloaded the bus and journeyed through what seemed like an endless series of lounges and lobbies, joined along the way by larger and larger crowds of loud middle-aged people all heading for the ballroom.
Jostled by hundreds of strangers, we made our way inside the ballroom. My sister and I had been separated from my parents, so we headed for the nearest Waikoloa staff member to be seated. He looked at our tickets, looked at us, smiled and said “Aren’t you the lucky ones.” Subconsciously, I knew what that meant. He led us through the back section and down a short flight of stairs, straight towards the stage. The seating section closest to the stage was lower than the rest of the ballroom which allowed everyone on either side to see my embarrassment as the guide led the two youngest people to the front row, where he indicated two seats.
Generally, I like to think of myself as a fan of classic rock and music from decades past. But I as I looked around the room to see those who shared similar taste, I found I did not like what I saw: hundreds of people, most of them old enough to be my parents, many of whom were holding drinks, drinking, or going to get drinks, all dressed in clothes they wore when they were my age.
The B52’s came out, the music started, and with it, dancing. At first it was just a few odd balls: one lady in particular caught my attention; she was seated far to my right, and was gyrating violently while her arms flailed above her head. She was then joined by three other women and two men, all of whom were shaking madly to the music. I turned around in my chair to see nearly all of the audience on their feet, dancing wildly to the melody of Rock Lobster.
As the strong smell of marijuana reached me, I decided that never again will there be fans of music quite like this; the boomers redefined what it meant to be a fan, what it meant to truly be devoted to music.
We left the concert shortly after midnight and walked back to our car instead of waiting for the bus. We were followed by a group of men with long graying hair kept back by headbands with psychedelic prints on them. What looked to be the oldest man tapped me on the shoulder and asked, “Do you have a light man?” I told him I didn’t smoke and he sighed, saying to his friend, “We’ve got a joint that’ll put you in the stratosphere but no f*****g light.”
I laughed at the appalled expressions on my parent’s faces and thought, ‘Never again.’
I was amazed but not surprised that many on the bus were already inebriated. I watched as two women staggered towards the bus stop, drinks in hand, and saw them trip over each other as they both attempted to enter the bus, simultaneously. The tiny door was clearly not big enough for both of them and this was made clear when both became trapped and dropped their drinks on the laps of the couple in the front seat. I expected to see an angry husband leap up and begin shouting at the two drunks; instead, I saw the two begin shaking with laughter as they made room for the women.
We winded our way through the massive Waikoloa Resort complex, the entire bus joined in the butchering of Rock Lobster and Love Shack. We unloaded the bus and journeyed through what seemed like an endless series of lounges and lobbies, joined along the way by larger and larger crowds of loud middle-aged people all heading for the ballroom.
Jostled by hundreds of strangers, we made our way inside the ballroom. My sister and I had been separated from my parents, so we headed for the nearest Waikoloa staff member to be seated. He looked at our tickets, looked at us, smiled and said “Aren’t you the lucky ones.” Subconsciously, I knew what that meant. He led us through the back section and down a short flight of stairs, straight towards the stage. The seating section closest to the stage was lower than the rest of the ballroom which allowed everyone on either side to see my embarrassment as the guide led the two youngest people to the front row, where he indicated two seats.
Generally, I like to think of myself as a fan of classic rock and music from decades past. But I as I looked around the room to see those who shared similar taste, I found I did not like what I saw: hundreds of people, most of them old enough to be my parents, many of whom were holding drinks, drinking, or going to get drinks, all dressed in clothes they wore when they were my age.
The B52’s came out, the music started, and with it, dancing. At first it was just a few odd balls: one lady in particular caught my attention; she was seated far to my right, and was gyrating violently while her arms flailed above her head. She was then joined by three other women and two men, all of whom were shaking madly to the music. I turned around in my chair to see nearly all of the audience on their feet, dancing wildly to the melody of Rock Lobster.
As the strong smell of marijuana reached me, I decided that never again will there be fans of music quite like this; the boomers redefined what it meant to be a fan, what it meant to truly be devoted to music.
We left the concert shortly after midnight and walked back to our car instead of waiting for the bus. We were followed by a group of men with long graying hair kept back by headbands with psychedelic prints on them. What looked to be the oldest man tapped me on the shoulder and asked, “Do you have a light man?” I told him I didn’t smoke and he sighed, saying to his friend, “We’ve got a joint that’ll put you in the stratosphere but no f*****g light.”
I laughed at the appalled expressions on my parent’s faces and thought, ‘Never again.’
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